********************************************************************************************************************************
The Parrot then jumped on the branch of Ishani's mango tree and asked a mango fruit, "I am hungry, can I eat you?" And the fruit said: "Not now, I'm unripe and will
The Parrot then looked into Ishani's kitchen and said to her mom: "I am hungry, won't you please give me a piece of bread?"
And Mom opened the fridge and gave a piece of bread to the Parrot.
"Won't you please spread some butter on it?
...And some sugar?
...It is so cold...won't you heat it in the micro oven?"
And after getting all of this, Parrot laughs and says: "I can't eat bread and butter...please call Ishani." And gave it to Ishani...and flew back to the guava tree and the mango tree and the banana tree. And, after filling her belly, she flew to her home in the Tower of the Old Building.
And Ishani ate the bread-butter-sugar with relish. And her mom and she went to Tech Market for shopping...with their designer bags on their shoulders...
When the story ended, Ishani embraced my chest and gave it a warm kiss.
...Posted by Ishani
************************************************************************************************
...The trouble is that the writer, unlike others who have anything to do with the public, works blindfolded. The stage actor has the chance to see how the public reacts to his performance, the musician has unmistakable response shown to him, the painter can stand aside at his own exhibition and listen to the remarks of his public, but the writer alone has no chance of studying his reader's face or hearing his immediate comment. It is well it is so. It is nature's protective arrangement, I suppose. For it is a well-known axiom that either the writer proves superior to his work or it is the other way round. A meeting of of a writer and his reader invariably produces disillusionment, which might as well be avoided. I remember one person who went away with chagrin after coming to see me. He had found in my shelves other people's books, and not mine in golden editions as he had expected. My talk was not scintillating and, above all, I was different from the picture he had of me in his mind...
...RKN in Next Sunday
After a hectic day I had my umpteenth cold shower and was lying supine on my bed.
Within moments Ishani arrived and jumped on my cot and sat on my tummy and asked for a story. That is one thing that can't be denied. The trouble with Ishani and her likes these days is that they have already heard all those fables from their moms and also watched their videos on their dad's laptops (dads are too busy to tell stories, except to their bosses).
So, one has to invent every time. Like that episode of Bhojraj and Kalidasa:
http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2010/09/bibliophobes.html
...RKN in Next Sunday
After a hectic day I had my umpteenth cold shower and was lying supine on my bed.
Within moments Ishani arrived and jumped on my cot and sat on my tummy and asked for a story. That is one thing that can't be denied. The trouble with Ishani and her likes these days is that they have already heard all those fables from their moms and also watched their videos on their dad's laptops (dads are too busy to tell stories, except to their bosses).
So, one has to invent every time. Like that episode of Bhojraj and Kalidasa:
http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2010/09/bibliophobes.html
"There was this Parrot who flew into Ishani's garden."
Ishani's restive hands became rock-steady with her eyes transfixed on mine.
And then it went on:
...The Parrot jumped on the branch of Ishani's guava tree and asked a guava fruit, "I am hungry, can I eat you?" And the fruit said: "Not now, I'm unripe and will hurt your teeth. Come after an hour."
Ishani's restive hands became rock-steady with her eyes transfixed on mine.
And then it went on:
...The Parrot jumped on the branch of Ishani's guava tree and asked a guava fruit, "I am hungry, can I eat you?" And the fruit said: "Not now, I'm unripe and will hurt your teeth. Come after an hour."
The Parrot then jumped on the branch of Ishani's mango tree and asked a mango fruit, "I am hungry, can I eat you?" And the fruit said: "Not now, I'm unripe and will
hurt your teeth. Come after an hour."
The Parrot then jumped on the branch of Ishani's banana tree and asked a banana fruit, "I am hungry, can I eat you?" And the fruit said: "Not now, I'm unripe and will hurt your teeth. Come after an hour."
The Parrot then looked into Ishani's kitchen and said to her mom: "I am hungry, won't you please give me a piece of bread?"
And Mom opened the fridge and gave a piece of bread to the Parrot.
"Won't you please spread some butter on it?
...And some sugar?
...It is so cold...won't you heat it in the micro oven?"
And after getting all of this, Parrot laughs and says: "I can't eat bread and butter...please call Ishani." And gave it to Ishani...and flew back to the guava tree and the mango tree and the banana tree. And, after filling her belly, she flew to her home in the Tower of the Old Building.
And Ishani ate the bread-butter-sugar with relish. And her mom and she went to Tech Market for shopping...with their designer bags on their shoulders...
When the story ended, Ishani embraced my chest and gave it a warm kiss.
Reason? I guess it is because it is not a mythical cock-and-bull story, but an equally mythical Ishani story - she is there in it and she is the heroine.
Ideally, this is how Physics is to be taught to Ishanis of both genders at IIT KGP....Personalized...weaving a web of stories in terms of concepts that are already familiar to them...like Parrots, Guavas, Mangoes, Bananas, Bread, Butter, Sugar, Fridge and Micro-oven.
After all, what we call Knowledge is nothing but making connections...
When the CEP started at IIT KGP, there was a lot of pressure on me to go to their anechoic video chamber and deliver 40 lectures on Electrodynamics for recording. I declined politely. Can't think of teaching an old cameraman in place of a bunch of youthful Ishanis. It is a matter of personal predilections.
As RKN would have said, teachers too are in the fortunate position of "having unmistakable response shown to them"...boos, moos, snores and catcalls.
I was apprehensive about my reaction and asked Edwin Taylor, the Uncle of Educational Technology at MIT, if my decision not to record my lectures for exhibition is right.
And he said emphatically:
Ideally, this is how Physics is to be taught to Ishanis of both genders at IIT KGP....Personalized...weaving a web of stories in terms of concepts that are already familiar to them...like Parrots, Guavas, Mangoes, Bananas, Bread, Butter, Sugar, Fridge and Micro-oven.
After all, what we call Knowledge is nothing but making connections...
When the CEP started at IIT KGP, there was a lot of pressure on me to go to their anechoic video chamber and deliver 40 lectures on Electrodynamics for recording. I declined politely. Can't think of teaching an old cameraman in place of a bunch of youthful Ishanis. It is a matter of personal predilections.
As RKN would have said, teachers too are in the fortunate position of "having unmistakable response shown to them"...boos, moos, snores and catcalls.
I was apprehensive about my reaction and asked Edwin Taylor, the Uncle of Educational Technology at MIT, if my decision not to record my lectures for exhibition is right.
And he said emphatically:
"O, Yes! That would be the worst form of teaching."
Worse than blogging!!!
=========================================================================
Worse than blogging!!!
=========================================================================
...Posted by Ishani
************************************************************************************************
3 comments:
One of my favorite writer in Bengali literature is Syed Mujtaba Ali (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syed_Mujtaba_Ali).